Prologue: The Morning of Night One

I can't say I was to bummed out to get the phone call from my new employer.

It was supposedly one of the easiest jobs the woman at the job agency could find: Night Guard. The place was a kid's restaurant or something, one of those chain joints that specialize in entertaining the brats whilst they eat themselves away on greasy pizza. Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria.

Why did a cheesy kid's place need a night guard? Who knows. Was I getting paid for it? Yeah… minimum wage. Stay in an office, watch the cameras, bust any bad guys that decide to make my life hell. All for something like $3.50 an hour. Six hour job. Making about twenty bucks a day, five days in a week. A hundred dollars a week. Nice going, Mike, nailed yourself a real gold mine, here.

It's not like I needed the money. I was living off of my inheritance from when my uncle died. Crunching the numbers, I was set for the next twenty, thirty years. By then, I'd be able to get retirement. What I needed was a job and frankly, I didn't care what. So when the phone rang:

"Hello?"

"Mr. Schmidt?" said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Speaking."

"We've reviewed your application and would like you to come in for an interview. Is there any particular time you can come by?"

"Today's good."

"Can you be here by 3:30?"

"That's fine."

"Good, I'll see you, then."

Click.

Several hours later, after I showered, I pulled into the restaurant's crowded parking lot, wearing a nice pressed black suit.

The sound of children screaming and laughing hit me when I opened the glass door. I was vaguely aware of a bell chiming when I stepped in.

The place was rather large, sectioned off into a play area, a large dining room with a stage at the front, and an area with a large sign saying 'Employees Only.' The smell was strong of pepperoni and rubber. I bit back the urge to gag and leave. Several weird animatronic puppets were singing an annoying song on stage.

I walked over to the Employees Only door and let myself in. A waiter walking by gave me directions to the manager's office.

I knocked twice and, when I invited in, stepped inside.

The office looked exactly like a standard office: file cabinets lining the walls, large desk with computer and portraits of family, tastelessly chosen chairs. The man behind the desk was named Frederick Behr, if the plaques on the walls and on his desk were any indication.

He was a slim, aging man with carefully combed black hair, streaked with gray, and a clean-shaven face. Demanding brown eyes and a stern expression, lips pressed into an emotionless straight line. This was the manager of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. This was the guy I needed to impress.

Yeah, this just got so much harder.

"Mr. Schmidt, I presume?" said Behr.

"Yes sir," I said, stepping forward.

"Please sit, Mr. Schmidt." he indicated on of the two chairs. I politely sat down. "You're right on time."

"I try," I said, trying to sound both intelligent and harmless.

"I'd rather not spend any time wasting time." said Behr, "So here's the deal. Your application was impressive, but you don't seem to possess the qualities we want. You have absolutely no training in this field, nor any experience leading up to it. But-" he paused, "-You seem to have a nice work history, as your references kindly said, you seem to be a good worker. Might I ask you one question: who was your previous employer?"

"I worked at a hotel near Denver, the Overlook, for several months until my uncle passed away. I've finally decided I needed to get back to work, and they wouldn't give me my old job."

"My condolences," he said dismissively, "Now, here's the deal: As things turn out, you were our only applicant. We need this position filled, as our last guard has decided to quit after several respectable years at work. He quit rather abruptly, and we need this position taken care of. Last night was his last night working. So we are in a tight situation here. If you want the position, you can start tonight."

"I'd love to." I said, without thinking.

"Very good," Behr said, clasping his hands together, "If you don't mind being here at 11:30 or so, just as the last of our staff are leaving, that would be perfect. You'll be working from midnight till six o'clock, when our day guard comes in. Any questions?"

The interview ended a few minutes later. I left with a large packet detailing the job proper and a uniform, which was mandatory attire. I returned home and set my alarm for eleven, hoping to get a couple of hours sleep before my first night as Night Guard.

Looking back, I should never have taken this job.

Night One

I stepped into the little office that housed the security cameras. I checked my watch. 11:45. My shift started in a quarter of an hour. I flipped to a random spot in the huge worker's handbook and started reading.

My watch beeped. Midnight.

The phone rang. I went to pick it up, only to find that it was a prerecorded message that was apparently set to play at the midnight hour, tonight.

I pressed play and a voice filled the small office from the receiver.

"Hey, if you're hearing this, then I guess you're the new night guard. Wait where is it? I've got this card I was supposed to read. Sort of a legal thing. Damn, where did I put it. Ahh! Here it is! Ahem! 'Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, a magical place where dreams and adventures come to life!' Ugh! 'Fazbear Industries is in no way responsible for any accidents, injuries, or deaths that might occur.'"

Wait. What?

"The truth is, we haven't really had any injuries or accidents since that whole Bite thing in '89. Anyway, I used to work here, that was my job actually. You're actually in my old office, as a matter of fact! So anyway, you shouldn't have to worry about any robbers or anything, but you might want to keep an eye on things."

Pause.

"You've probably noticed the animatronics that dance around on stage. Well, the thing is, they tend to wander around at night. They get a little wild sometimes. I guess I would too if I had to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years straight. Well, we have to leave them on overnight, something about their servos freezing up or something. I don't know."

"Anyway, you might want to keep an eye on them. They're programmed to know that no one is supposed to be here at night, so if they see you, they might think that you're- I don't know- an endoskeleton without a costume. If they see you, they might- I don't know- try to shove you into a Freddy Fazbear costume. This would be fine and everything, if the costumes weren't full of wires and servos and gears, and other electronic gizmos. I think maybe your eyes would be fine, but that might be about it."

"It's nothing dangerous or anything, but if one of them sees you, you might want to flash one of the hall lights on really fast or something, or close the doors leading to the office."

I heard a weird sound coming from the monitor on the desk. I switched through the cameras, briefly. Nothing seemed to be amiss. One of the backstage rooms housed three of the animatronics: a bear of some kind, a bluish rabbit with big ears, and a chick with gigantic eyes.

"Like I said, they're not dangerous or anything. But yeah, just keep an eye on your cameras and everything should be fine. Oh and before I forget, you might want to be a little conservative with your power. After the restaurant closes, the power is turned off, to save money on electricity. Basically, during the graveyard shift, you'll be running on the generator's backup power, which is rather temporary. So, anyway, be careful with your lights, and the doors. They do tend to take up a lot of energy, so anyway. Have a nice first night, and I hope you enjoy the job."

Beep.

The message ended.

I looked at my watch. 12:20. Five and a half hours to go.

I cycled through the cameras again, and saw that one of the animatronic was missing.

I drew a sharp breath and cycled through the cameras again.

There he was, in the dining area. I sighed.

One thought pervaded my mind as I reviewed the phone guy's recording in my head: What had I gotten myself into?